


Upon A Mountain Dreary

by SometimesIWriteBunnySmutOkay



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm trying to leave the player character out of this as much as possible, Idk I ship them but they're kind of undead, Is it necrophilia if they're both dead?, Probably some angst, Romance?, Someone has to write for them, Stormheim Campaign, There isn't enough of this pairing, largely canonical events, not that that's stopped anyone before
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-25 05:04:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20371150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SometimesIWriteBunnySmutOkay/pseuds/SometimesIWriteBunnySmutOkay
Summary: Despite having been recently named Warchief, Sylvanas Windrunner has other things running through her mind, namely a mission to Stormheim that if successful could spell a positive future for all Forsaken. But things such as these are never so easy and Nathanos, for one, can only see the ways this could go awry.This closely follows the events of the Stormheim campaign, with some minor adjustments for plot purposes.





	1. The Future of the Forsaken

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I've always shipped it, but after realizing that this shit was cannon and _literally no one_ has written shit for the pairing, I decided to throw my hat into the ring.
> 
> Sylvanas and Nathanos are perfect, I will die with this ship.
> 
> Enjoy.

“-she says it’s our future.”

“Really? A lantern?” Dark Ranger Kalira scoffed.

“It’s supposed to help her harness some ancient being’s power,” her fellow ranger, Vorel, said, waving a gauntleted hand.

“A myth, surely,” Kalira muttered, rolling her eyes.

Vorel shrugged. “Maybe, but the librarians seem certain, as does the Dark Lady herself.”

Attempting to tune out their conversation with an irritable sigh, Nathanos Blightcaller turned a bored eye to the newest recruits they’d managed to conscript into the Forsaken ranks. They were terrible at this point in time, every batch was. His apathy quickly faded as the words of the rangers nearby continued to filter through his head.

"I think it's a stupid move," Kalira scoffed. "All we'll end up doing is getting ourselves killed."

"Honestly," Vorel agreed. "I expected more from the Dark Lady."

The recruits continued to attempt to hit the stationary targets, and the rangers continued to babble, the combination eating away at Nathanos' patience. Feeling almost irrationally frustrated as yet another arrow flew into the acid green necrotic slime, Nathanos snapped at the nearest newbie. “Who taught you how to hold a bow like that?"

Turning around sheepishly, the female Forsaken tried to come up with an answer only for him to cut her off. “I want to see your arm stiff and your eyes actually _ looking _ where you point your arrows, they are _ not _ an infinite resource, contrary to how you treat them.” Unable to hold himself back after he’d gotten started, Nathanos spat, “And for fuck’s sake, at least draw it back properly. Loose fingers, not tight, if you keep this up an apothecary will have to stitch them back on.” Towering over the girl, the former Ranger Lord growled, “Do they teach you anything before they send you to me?” 

“Yes?” the fresh forsaken ventured.

“Then clearly Dedlow is _ slacking, _ because you learned nothing.” Taking a step back from the thoroughly chewed out girl with an audible sound of contempt, Nathanos crossed his arms over his chest and barked, “This time do it properly, or I’ll see to it that you’re sent back to him in a box.”

The two Dark Rangers nearby stopped gossiping so they could titter with laughter. Growling under his breath, the man resisted snapping at them as well, but only just.

Returning to his silent brooding, Nathanos attempted to focus on the recruits, but it was a fruitless effort. His temper bubbled too close to the surface, just begging for a reason to be released. If he spent too much time here, he’d chew through these newbies without ever giving them a chance to learn anything. _ Soldiers aren’t made in a day. _

He wasn’t even angry at them, no, it was… Everything else. Frustrated with himself, Nathanos clenched his teeth until his jaw creaked.

“Calm down Blightcaller, you wouldn’t want to damage those teeth of yours,” murmured Kalira, all but materializing behind him as only an elf could do.

“I believe you have things to be doing,” he flatly stated. “As do I.”

“Oh I’m sure you do,” Vorel agreed, her tone entirely too knowing for his liking. 

“Would you like to clarify that statement,” Nathanos growled, his temper rising once more.

The Ranger flashed her teeth in a mocking smile. “I would, but as you said Blightcaller, I have things I should be doing.” Then, infuriatingly, she waltzed away, Kalira following her with a laugh.

Fuming silently, Nathanos snapped hawk-like eyes back to his trainees, who were all watching with frightened awe. _ I can’t deal with this right now. _“Eyes on your targets!” he barked. Leaping back into action, the recruits quickly made themselves busy doing very little at all. Grunting, Nathanos rolled his shoulders. Standing here wasn’t going to help the bubbling anger subside and he knew it.

_ Go talk to her, you can’t do anything if you stand here. _

The very idea deflated him. Talk to her and do what? Change her mind? The suggestion seemed laughable. He didn’t find much funny, but this was so absurd he almost laughed aloud. Oh sure, he could try, but all he was likely to do was irritate her.

But if he said nothing… The cost of her failure might be too much for them to bear.

Certainly it would be far too much for him.

Straightening his back, the undead man snapped his fingers, calling the attention of the trainees. “I have business to attend to,” he stated, eyeing them all with a scowl. “If you require assistance, Apolos will I’m sure be more than happy to _ assist.” _ Leaving them with that, Nathanos did an about face and walked away, his steps full of purpose.

The Apothecarium, which surrounded the entrance to the royal chambers, seemed to be swarming with people today. Picking out the tall blood elves easily from the usual robed forsaken, Nathanos scowled. Doubtless there was an important visitor, for this large entourage. He was hardly surprised. Everyone, after all, had business with the new Warchief, most of it apparently unavoidable.

Paying the milling Elves no attention, Nathanos gave the Deathguards at the hall a curt nod before sweeping past them. As he ventured deeper his tred evened and became softer, steadier, until the murmurs of voices ahead of him drowned them out entirely.

“Of course, Warchief. With any luck, Suramar will fall easily.”

“Well, that would certainly be convenient, Lor’themar.” The chilling voice of the Dark Lady intoned. "Then again, working with the _Night Elves..._ How distasteful." Stepping past the royal guard that had accompanied the king of the Blood Elves, Nathanos moved to the side so he could settle against a stone pillar beside the door.

Sylvanas Windrunner looked almost bored, as though her meeting with the High Elf was nothing but a casual conversation, one which required little of her attention. Her eyes roamed the scene as Lor’themar continued to talk, clearly disinterested. Nathanos would have listened, but his gaze was fixed on his Queen, and his mind was elsewhere.

Namely on how he was going to approach this matter. _ She’ll avoid the subject, _ he thought. _ The chances of her being direct are next to none when it comes to something like this. _ After all, when Sylvanas made up her mind, she didn’t change it easily.

As his mind churned, the Queen’s carmine eyes found him and locked into place. Just her attention was enough to cause Nathanos to straighten and lift his chin. There was no obvious calculation in her lazy stare, though to his trained eye, it was the gaze of a predator.

A shame he had never learned to treat it as such.

Lor’themar's refined voice ceased and Sylvanas nodded, her eyes never leaving Nathanos. “Do keep Tyrande in check for me. I'd rather keep her filthy hands off of this as much as possible." The woman's lips curled into a momentary cruel smile. "I look forward to hearing of your progress."

“Of course,” the Blood Elf affirmed. “For the Horde.”

“For the Horde,” she confirmed, her eyes finally shifting back to the Elf before her.“Now see to it. This war will be won, one way or another. It is up to us to secure the Horde a place in history, I would prefer it was one of victory.”

“As do I,” Lor’themar agreed. Bowing his head briefly, the proud Elf took a step down from the dais before turning and striding out of the throne room. As he passed, the Royal guard fell in line behind him, their boots seeming to hardly touch the flagstones at all. Nathanos watched them go, his brow ever furrowed in thought.

“I do hope the matter isn’t urgent, Blightcaller.” Sylvanas’ voice drew his attention immediately, and Nathanos turned to face the woman.

“Not precisely,” he began, stepping out of the shadows sharply.

Looking him over with her usual piercing eyes, the Dark Lady finally said, “Then precisely _ what _ is it?”

There was little point beating around the bush. He was here, and the situation wasn’t going to go away if he tried to ignore it. So instead he inhaled and stated, “I’m here about Stormheim.”

“Really?” Eyebrows lifting, Sylvanas let out a soft sound that might have been a chuckle. “I would have thought I had briefed you enough already.” Her smile was that of someone looking at a favored pet, an expression he was intimately familiar with. “Thorough as ever.” Slowly turning away from him, the Banshee Queen waved a slender hand. “What do you wish to say, my Champion.”

“You shouldn’t go.”

"Oh?"

It wasn’t often that Nathanos voiced descent. When one served the Dark Lady as faithfully as he did, questioning her decisions seemed almost foreign. No, it _ was _ foreign to him, and the very words felt strange on his tongue each time he did it. But sometimes it was inevitable, and as this was one of those times, he held his back straight and made no move to retreat.

Without turning around, the Banshee Queen’s posture shifted slightly, as if in irritation. “Shouldn’t? A bold choice of words, Blightcaller.”

Agitated with her sidestep of the issue, Nathanos almost said _ I won’t let you, _ before clenching his teeth, lest the words escape him. He had no real power to stop her if she wanted to pursue this mission to Stormheim, but he had to try. At least that much he owed himself.

“It’s too dangerous, my Queen,” he said instead, eyes trained on the back of the undead woman’s head.

“Is it now?” Slowly pivoting back to face him, Sylvanas narrowed her eyes at Nathanos, her gaze cool, impassable. Obviously, she wasn’t listening. She was hearing, but his words weren’t convincing in the slightest. If anything, he was frustrating her by not going along with her ideas just on principal.

Thankfully, irking his Queen was something Nathanos did a fair amount and her reaction hardly cowed him. A lesser creature might have folded, but there was a reason he was Sylvanas’ Champion and not just another one of her underlings.

Unfortunately, his obstanace was noted by the other individuals in the room, namely the Dark Rangers that guarded the Banshee Queen. Though they did not murmur _ now, _ Nathanos knew that very little could stop them if he continued to argue in front of them. After dealing with Kalira and Vorel, he hardly had the patience for more idle gossip from that crowd today.

_ All the more reason to make them leave sooner rather than later. _

“May I speak with you in private,” he requested, his voice dropping from his usual growling tones to a lower insistence.

“We _ are _ in private, Blightcaller,” Sylvanas responded, her lips curling up in an empty smirk, once again attempting to dodge out of the conversation he needed them to have. 

“With all due respect, Dark Lady,” Nathanos corrected, his words clipped. “No, we are not.”

Sylvanas’ smirk dropped and she let out an irritable _ ttch _before snapping her fingers at the Dark Rangers standing around the room. “Out,” she ordered, her aggravation plain on her face and concentrated solely on Nathanos. As her rangers all but melted into the walls, vanishing from sight, Nathanos caught one of their raised eyebrows and scowled in return.

The moment they had left the room, Nathanos looked back to Sylvanas and opened his mouth to speak only to be cut off by his Queen. “How has undeath been treating you lately, Champion?”

Caught off guard, Nathanos found himself answering. “The newest group of recruits is as useless as ever. We lost too many to the initial assault of the Broken Shore, there hasn’t been enough time to fill our ranks once more.”

“Did I ask after our troops, Blightcaller?” Sylvanas asked, almost amused.

Blinking, the ranger looked to the side and ran a distracted hand through his hair, only then realizing how quickly she had diverted the conversation. _ This isn’t what I came here to do. There isn’t time for idle chatter. _

“I must thank you for mustering our forces while I was in Orgrimmar,” the Queen commented in an offhanded manner. “This new mantle of Warchief comes with many responsibilities, and I hardly have time to be in two places at once.”

“No you don’t,” Nathanos agreed, attempting to steer the conversation in the direction he needed it to go. “You need to focus.”

“A shame I have so much to do, then,” Sylvanas said with a light chuckle.

“It would be simpler if you didn’t go to Stormheim,” Nathanos pointed out.

“We’ve been over this, Blightcaller,” Sylvanas drawled, her previously relaxed features twisting into a scowl to match his own. “This mission is vital.”

Dropping as much of the formality as he dared, if only to make his point more poignant, Nathanos stepped closer to his Queen and insisted, “The Broken Isles are caught up in the tides of war, as we are all aware. No one is safe there. For you to go…” he shook his head. “It would be foolish.”

“Are you saying that you can no longer keep me safe, my Champion,” Sylvanas questioned, her eyebrows lifting tauntingly. His first reaction was to snap that _ of course he could still protect her, he would guard her faithfully until the ends of time _ but… That was what she wanted him to do. She was still trying to distract him.

This time though, he refused to let it work.

“Send me then,” Nathanos growled instead. “Send your most trusted rangers. Send all of us! Anything is preferable to you-” 

“Leading my forces into a fight that I intend to start,” Sylvanas finished, turning from him once more and pacing away, boots hardly making a sound on the dull green marble, despite her anger. “You would have me cower here, like a frightened child, rather than seek the salvation of my people? Of _ your _ people?”

“Not cower,” Nathanos insisted frustratedly. “Remain safe, as a prudent leader should.”

“If you want me to remain safe, Nathanos-” Sylvanas’ voice held a sneer that he didn’t have to see to be sure of its presence. “Then _ keep _ me safe. Do not stand there and disrespect your Queen as though I can not think for myself.”

_ You can think for yourself, you're just blind to the danger you're walking into. _

Inhaling sharply, Nathanos bit his tongue. His temper was getting the best of him, but it was difficult to hold it in check when so much potentially hung in the balance. The Alliance was crawling over the Broken Isles, the hope that they would just be dealing with the Vrykul was just wishful thinking. They would be fighting at every turn, and there was never any guarantee that every fight would go in their favor. Sylvanas’ presence there would be like begging for trouble. 

And if the worst came to pass, it would no longer be a blow to the Forsaken alone. It would be a blow to the whole of the Horde. Just the thought of something happening to his Queen left Nathanos with his hackles up. He would die before he let the Alliance skum lay a finger on Sylvanas, but… what if he wasn’t enough.

The possibility was all too real.

As those thoughts and a million more ran through his head, the champion watched in silence as Sylvanas paced around him, like a Nightsaber stalking her prey. She was nothing if not capable, a fearsome foe in life and a force of nature itself in death, but even she had her vulnerabilities, and her burning need to ensure the future of her people was absolutely one of them.

In a carefully measured tone, Nathanos said, “Your rangers and your heros can not protect you from everything, Sylvanas. _ I _can't protect you from everything.” Unlike how she had used his name, almost as an insult, Nathanos spoke his Queen’s name softly. Reverence was not something he often held for anything, but when it came to the Dark Lady, it was an apt descriptor of his behavior. Though he would have killed anyone who suggested it, Nathanos knew that he was captivated by her.

And coming from him, the sound of her name gave the Banshee Queen pause.

“You are not just the leader of our people,” Nathanos continued, maintaining the same low tone. “You are the future of the entire Horde. If you were to die or were the Alliance to capture you, it would render us all defenseless and without leadership. Everything you have built would crumble.”

“The Horde will not fall so easily,” the woman dismissed. “They have sustained losses before. Lor’themar would take my place and things would move on.”

“But the Forsaken would not,” Nathanos pushed, knowing deep in the pit of his chest that he had lost the argument long before it had begun. “I would-” He stopped, swallowing back the words before he could say them. “They would be lost without you, Sylvanas.”

Feet hardly making a sound as she ascended to the dais once more, Sylvanas paced around Nathanos until she stood before him. Crimson eyes boring into his own, the Queen lifted her chin. “Failure is indeed a possibility, Nathanos,” she agreed, the pure acceptance in her tone almost disheartening. “But if success means my people will live on, then it is a sacrifice I am willing to make.”

Clamping down on the unknowable feeling that clawed at his throat, Nathanos bowed his head. Knowing he had been beaten, as he had always accepted he would be, the man clenched his fists before kneeling before Sylvanas, his leather armor scuffing against the cold ground. Formality swiftly returning to his tone, the man said, “Forgive me for questioning you, Dark Lady.”

“You will come with me, Champion,” Sylvanas stated, her words echoing slightly in the large, unforgiving throne room. “You are my right hand, and you will carry out my orders as though they were your own will.”

“My will has always been yours, my Queen,” Nathanos murmured, his words lost in the space between them. “We will do all we can to help ensure your success.”

Hooking an unexpected finger beneath his chin, Sylvanas lifted the Forsaken man’s face up till his eyes met her own. “I am counting on you Nathanos.” There was no softness in her eyes, there was only the fire of ambition flickering in those carmine orbs. “You have never failed me before. I do not expect you to start now.”

Resisting the foolish desire to seize her hand, Nathanos swallowed back the remaining vestiges of his uncertainty and nodded. “My life for yours, my Queen. Your Champion will not fail you.”

If she insisted on going, then he wouldn’t give himself another option. The consequences, after all, would be too great to bear.

“Good,” she stated, dropping his chin, seemingly satisfied. “Go now, Blightcaller. We leave before first light, I expect you to be there.”

Rising to his feet, Nathanos said curtly, “Of course,” before turning away and striding into the shadows of the hallway out of the throne room, leaving Sylvanas and his reservations behind him.

There was much to do, and time never stopped to wait for the wicked.


	2. Ocean Spray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, it took me a hot minute to write this chapter, but in my defense, I've never written for Sylvanas before. She's tricky, but then, which of these characters aren't?
> 
> Also, holy shit, people read the last chapter?? That's wild, I was convinced no one would.
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy this chapter just as much~

The sea was quiet that night.

They’d been traveling for a full day, and the dull slosh of the waves against the hull of _ The Windrunner _had become nothing but a droning in the back of Sylvanas’ mind. The winds had been favorable, and the sea had offered nothing in the way of trouble. As journeys went, this had been particularly uneventful, almost to the point of suspicion.

But if her Dread-captain was to be believed, the only thing in the near future they had to concern themselves with was the storm threatening on the horizon that churned around the shores of Stormheim.

Currently, the Banshee Queen stood at the stern of the ship, watching the foaming trails the hull had cut through the waves. She could feel her mind drifting with the wind pushing against their sails, a distinct change from the chaos her existence had become. All of the stresses of her position seemed easily lost to the water beneath them, wicked away from her whether she wished them to be or not. It was almost… well, not calming, but certainly lulling. 

Despite this, the travel was beginning to wear on her and in turn that left her impatient, ready to begin what was sure to be an arduous task.

Mind honing in on more important matters, Sylvanas narrowed her eyes at the dark horizon the ship was leaving behind. Her apothecaries had made no effort to sugar coat the reality of what she was about to undertake. It would be hard, painful, and potentially impossible. The Soulcage was no ordinary lantern, after all, and such a powerful magic was not easily obtained.

Yet she was bound and determined to make this mission a success. The things that got in her way would be rendered as nothing but minor inconveniences in the face of her sheer force of will. And with the very best her Forsaken had to offer backing her, there was little that could truly hinder her.

Still, Sylvanas couldn’t help but run over her plans once again in her mind, checking them against all the available information for ways they could fall through. They _ seemed _ airtight, but even the most irrational of plans could appear feasible until they were tested.

The only things she couldn’t be sure of were matters outside of her control. _ The _ beings _ outside my control. _ If she made the wrong decision in those moments, she could doom the whole operation and lose valuable assets in the process. Almost as an afterthought, Sylvanas realized that where she was going, if she wasn’t careful, she could lose herself.

And while she found that to be nothing but a fact of life, something she couldn’t change and refused to let stop her, it still niggled at the back of her head. Her obsessiveness over this plan wouldn’t allow the thought to escape. Or perhaps, it was the one who’d voiced those sentiments originally that kept the idea trapped in her skull. 

Resting her palms against the railing, the Queen’s head dipped for a moment as a small puff of air escaped her lungs. She could practically hear the words _ You think too much _ echo through her mind in familiar gravelly tones. Maybe it was true, but it was better to think twice and fight once, and she preferred to be efficient.

The barely perceptible padding of footsteps behind her drew Sylvanas’ attention and she stood straight as one of her Dark Rangers materialized at her side. “We’ve received word from our forward outpost, Dark Lady.”

At last, she mused. Something else to think about. Without turning to the woman, Sylvanas coolly asked, “Good news?”

“News,” Anya proffered, her tone foreboding. “The Alliance has been encroaching on the post. Nothing they couldn’t deal with yet, but you know how those dogs can be.”

_ Only too well. _

“We’ll fortify it the moment we reach land. They will face the might of the Horde soon enough,” Sylvanas dismissed, giving no indication she was concerned. 

“Very good Dark Lady,” the ranger acknowledged. “Shall I send word?”

“We’ll be there within the evening,” the Queen said decisively. “There is no need to waste resources in such a way.”

“Of course.” Bobbing her head, Anya swiftly vanished, no doubt to attend to other duties elsewhere. It left Sylvanas alone to her thoughts once more, to them and to the wind and waves.

The sooner they made landfall, the better. She had only had scant scouting posts erected ahead of them, and if the Alliance realized this, chances were her careful planning ahead would result in nothing but a pointless loss of life. If this were to succeed with the maximum of ease, she needed the area she’d be traversing secured. Otherwise, an already difficult task would become needlessly frustrating.

Sylvanas’ mouth twisted. Her mind was running in circles.

It was the lack of movement, she decided, nothing more. Staying cooped up on this ship might not be as calming as she had previously assumed. There was too much riding on the coming days for these moments to be filled with anything but impatient waiting.

Straightening her hood, Sylvanas turned towards where they were going. Though she couldn’t see land yet, she knew it was ahead of them, just past the fog of the night. She had never seen Stormheim herself, the only glimpses into its mountains consisting of what her mages had been able to conjure and what her apothecaries had managed to find in books. But if what she had seen was true, it would be a simple matter to get lost in its peaks and valleys. 

That, or lose someone.

_ The Alliance will prove to be the least of my problems. _ Chances were, she would leave their petty skirmishes with her own forces behind before they had an opportunity to stop her.

Glancing down at the deck of the ship, Sylvanas noted those she’d brought with her on her flagship. There were several heroes of the Horde, fresh from the battle of the Broken Shore and looking for further glory. Her mouth twisted. The _ official _ mission they were here for was securing a lost artifact of these mountains. Hopefully such a task would keep them out of the way.

Eyes drifting to Dread-captain Tattersail, who was steering them through the fog with gleeful intent, Sylvanas almost sighed. She was a good captain, entirely skilled at that which she did, but always a tad bit over excited about this sort of thing. In Sylvanas’ opinion, being around her for long periods of time was grating. _ No matter, we will land soon. _

Letting her attention drift elsewhere over the ship, the Queen’s brow furrowed. Decidedly, she made her way down from the stern, her watchful eyes taking in the state of her present forces. Everyone seemed to be on edge, ready for a fight. Her rangers stood at their posts, their red eyes trained on the ocean, just waiting for potential threats to appear. The soldiers she’d brought on this particular ship were preparing for their landing, polishing their weapons and talking in hushed voices to one another. _ Eager to sink their teeth into a fight, _ Sylvanas knew.

Leaving the deck, the woman ventured deeper into the ship, toward the bowels of the proud craft. The preparations for their landing were dull feedback in her ears as she scanned the faces of those there. The sight confirmed her suspicions that the sea had been getting to her. _ We are prepared. _

Foolish of her to think otherwise.

A familiar set of footsteps behind her filtered through the Banshee Queen’s mind and she felt a smirk tug at her lips. _ Ah, right on time. _

“Champion,” she acknowledged as the flutter of Nathanos’ cloak settled to her right.

“Dark Lady,” he returned, his voice carrying its typical steady rumble, one she was intimately familiar with. She could feel his eyes trained on her, yet she elected not to turn towards him. 

“I have set our forces the task of securing the Aegis of Aggramar for the coming battle with the Broken Legion.” she commented, shifting her weight with the sway of the ship. “It will be a fight, the Vry’kul will not give up that power easily, but we expected that.”

“Do we have its location yet?” Nathanos questioned.

“Captain Dreadwake and his men are searching for its current location as we speak,” Sylvanas responded, her mind settling. “The moment we know where it is, I expect those warriors I handpicked from the Horde’s ranks to be sent in pursuit.” Though it was trivial, the act of talking through the mundanities of their strategy with her closest ally helped the Queen clear her mind. “I also intend on sending you with them, for a time.”

Finally turning towards Nathanos, Sylvanas looked her Champion over. His posture was loose, yet ready to move at a moment’s notice, a common state to find him in. Under her scrutiny however, the Forsaken man stood straighter, pressing his shoulders back and lifting his chin. His gaze was fixed on her, and despite his confident stance, she could easily read the underlying reservations he held in his eyes. 

Part of her was irked. He had sworn to follow her here and do all he could to see her goals to fruition, and yet still he doubted her, feared the possibility of disaster. She wanted to chastise him openly for it, but at the same time, some piece of her still struggled to come to terms with the price of failure as well.

_ We both require confidence in the trials to come. _

Narrowing her eyes, Sylvanas sent a silent challenge to her Champion. _ Do you still stand with me? I can’t have uncertainty, there is no room for fear or doubt at this juncture. _As she stared him down, almost daring him to be intimidated by the task at hand, Nathanos’ eyes blazed to life, meeting her gaze with resolute strength of his own.

His expression seemed to say, _ I believe in you, and no matter what happens, I will follow you. _

“I will do all I can to ensure their success, my Queen,” Nathanos assured her. As she searched the fire in his eyes, Sylvanas could practically hear him say, _ but you are still my first priority. _

“Excellent,” she said, nodding. “My own personal mission is delicate, I’d rather not have to worry after the Aegis as well.” 

“It will be done, Dark Lady,” Nathanos assured her. And she knew it would, Nathanos Blightcaller was not one to let her down in any respect, especially when it came to following orders. _ As unerringly faithful as he was in life. _

All she said however was a simple, “Good.” Nothing more was needed; if anyone could understand her, it was her Champion. Satisfied, her gaze drifted. Noting the curious eyes of her Forsaken upon them, the Queen frowned slightly. 

Catching this change, Nathanos turned from her and barked at the soldiers, “Get back to work! The Banshee Queen will not suffer your incompetence, and I certainly have no reason to.” 

Waltzing around Nathanos, leaving him to handle the crew, Sylvanas headed deeper into the ship, hiding her smirk behind the folds of her hood. She’d never given much attention to the idle gossip that surrounded them, it was beneath her, but her Champion certainly seemed to care enough for both of them. 

While the sounds of her slacking forces getting chewed out behind her echoed through the ship, Sylvanas proceeded through several doorways to the more private chambers; her quarters and smaller room off to the side where the Dread-captain resided. As she entered her own room, one of Nathanos’ Blighthounds lifted its head off of the floor and watched her. When it had gotten there, she didn’t know.

Behind her, the ship fell silent once more and she let out a low chuckle.

“I trust they know what they’re doing now, Blightcaller,” Sylvanas hummed, feeling rather than hearing the shadow that was Nathanos approach, only to remain stationed in the doorway.

“I should hope so,” he muttered, clearly still irked. “Otherwise, I’m sure we can find some sharks that would love to take care of them for us.”

Walking over to the large map of Stormheim she had spread out over the single table, Sylvanas said, “I hope you haven’t made a habit of killing incompetant people, Blightcaller. I’m afraid I’d have hardly anyone left.”

Without a hint of sarcasm, he dryly responded, “Only the ones who deserve it.”

Above them, there was a low rumble of thunder around the ship. Glancing up, Sylvanas commented, “There’s a storm coming in. How very welcoming. Tell me, do you also look forward to being rained on?”

“It’s easier to track a Worgen if it smells like a wet dog,” Nathanos reasoned. Sylvanas raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t have to ask for an explanation, he already knew she expected one. “I asked after the news from the shore as well, Dark Lady. It appears there have been a great deal of those mongrels prowling the coast.”

Mouth twisting at the knowledge, Sylvanas thought this over for a moment before dismissing it. “Then I suppose you can go hunting, Blightcaller.”

“There are rumors that Greymane is in the area.”

That brought a frown to her face. Of course the flea bitten old man would be here. He had a nasty habit of getting in her way when she most needed him out of it. Tone dark, Sylvanas stated, “If he is, be sure to put an arrow through his skull for me.” Turning an eye on Nathanos, the Banshee’s lips pulled into a cruel smile. “I would _ love _ to have his head hanging in the halls of Lordaeron.”

“I would be _ honored,” _ Nathanos assured her, his own expression one of distaste.

Lifting an eyebrow, Sylvanas looked back at her map, one she’d spent hours pouring over, books stacked high on either side. Now, the only thing pinning the paper to the table was a sturdy inkwell. Tracing the rough paths that cut through the mountains, the Queen ran an absent finger over Haustvald. _ Is this even possible? _

It would be. If it wasn’t, Sylvanas would _ make _ it possible. 

Following her chosen path with a fingernail, the woman hummed low in her throat as she tracked it back to the spot which they’d be landing on. It was a journey. Even if she avoided scaling anything too large, it would be several days worth of travel, give or take a few depending on how hostile the locals were. And that would be the easy part, the hard piece of it would come after.

As another crack of thunder echoed above them, Sylvanas raised her head to find Nathanos still standing in the doorway, silently watching her. Shifting, the Queen placed herself in one of the chairs pulled up to the table before lifting a hand and crooking a finger in her Champion’s direction. For a moment, she wondered if he’d hesitate, but the thought was short lived as Nathanos strode forward towards her.

Staring up at the Forsaken man, Sylvanas cocked her head to one side and watched him, allowing the sloshing of the waves and the creaking of the ship to fill the silence. There were any number of things she could have said to alleviate the lull in conversation, but something about the non-verbal understanding that passed between them kept her quiet.

As though taking his cues from her, Nathanos made no move to speak. All he did was stare at her with eyes that were a bit too knowing for her liking. She wondered distantly what he was reading from her, which defenses she’d let slip without knowing. There wasn’t a soul alive or dead that she would have allowed to watch her like this, but here they were.

It was too familiar.

_ There’s business to be done. _

Letting out a low breath, Sylvanas turned her attention to her map. “I will be leaving soon after we establish a forward base,” she commented, tapping the location her operatives had already claimed. “Do not concern yourself with looking for me, I will find you if I have need of you Blightcaller.”

“You plan to go alone?” Nathanos questioned.

“Yes,” Sylvanas confirmed, eyeing him with a raised brow. “Let us not belabor this point, I move faster on my own, and someone needs to corral the rest of my forces.”

For a moment, Nathanos seemed to wrestle with her words, before running a hand through his hair tersely and stating plainly, “I could easily shadow you. You know as well as I that I’d neither slow you down nor hinder you.”

“That is unnecessary, Champion,” Sylvanas responded, somewhat icily.

“But it would be wise,” he argued. Frustrated by his belligerence, Sylvanas faced him with a scowl.

“I tire of this pointless conversation,” she said frankly, cutting off the discussion swiftly. “You have your orders, Blightcaller, and I have my mission. Success is paramount, your _ concerns _ are not.”

Though her words were met with a stare fueled by passionate fire, Nathanos didn’t attempt to push further. Instead, he gave her a frustrated frown and a curt nod before backing down. If she hadn’t been so final, he doubtless would have argued, but both of them knew he was treading a fine line, one neither were too keen on crossing.

“If all goes well, this will be a relatively quick affair,” Sylvanas finally continued, spreading a gauntleted hand over the edge of the map. “Not to say it will be at all easy, but it shouldn’t be lengthy.” If this was an attempt at reassurance, it wasn’t a good one. Nathanos’ only response was to scowl at the map, as though he could burn through it with a stare.

Getting to her feet, Sylvanas stood beside her Champion. “I will bring salvation to the Forsaken,” she said softly. It was a promise, one she wasn’t sure if she was making to Nathanos or herself. 

“What will it cost?” Nathanos asked, slowly raising his eyes to meet hers. 

Before Sylvanas could even begin to formulate an answer, there was a deafening volley of gunfire that rocked the entire ship. Catching herself on Nathanos’ arm as both of them stumbled with the impact, the Banshee Queen stared upward and cursed. “It seems we have company,” she said, an understatement as the sounds of weapons being drawn and voices shouting filled her ears.

“It appears we do,” Nathanos agreed, snapping his fingers and calling the Blighthound still in the room to him.

There was no need for further communication, both of them made for the door swiftly, steadying themselves against the cannon fire rocking the boat. The moment they reached the surface, Sylvanas turned her eyes skyward and was rewarded with the unwelcome sight of an Alliance gunship circling them in the air.

_ The Skyfire. _ It seemed that Genn Greymane had indeed found her. _ Unfortunate, but we shall work around it. _

Quickly spotting the Dread-Captain in the mayhem, Sylvanas beckoned the Forsaken woman to her. Hurrying down from her position at the helm, Tattersail gave a hasty salute before yelling over the chaos, “They came out of the storm, Dark Lady. No one saw them coming.”

“Is it just one ship?” Nathanos asked, his tone sharp.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean they have any less of an advantage in this situation,” the captain insisted, one bony hand clutched around her sword. “Dammit! We’re sitting ducks out here!”

Mind working quickly, Sylvanas made a snap judgement. “The Alliance will be upon us soon and we have nowhere to run.” Turning to Nathanos, she swiftly began issuing orders. “Organize our defenses, beginning with the rear. I want Bat-riders in the air and catapults at the ready.”

“My Queen,” Nathanos said, his tone insistent. “Your safety must be our first concern.” When her expression became stony, he belligerently tried, “Surely we can leave a few ships behind to-”

But now was no longer the time for discussion. Now was the time for quick decisive action and she refused to let Nathanos compromise that for something as foolish as worry for her. “Do not question me, Nathanos,” she snapped, her carmine eyes blazing fiercely. The look in them dared him to question her, dared him to continue to try and protect her when she’d given him a direct order otherwise. Under her stare, the muscles in her Champion’s neck tightened and tensed, but he held his tongue. Satisfied, Sylvanas ordered, “Now go, make for the Eternity.” 

_ If all goes well, I shall see you again shortly. _

Bitterly, Nathanos bowed his head. “Yes, of course.” Then he set off, giving neither of them time to think too hard about arguing the point further. 

She watched him start martialing their forces for a moment, before drawing her bow and eyeing the sky for the Griffins and paratroopers that were sure to be dispatched soon, more than ready to fight.

_ A warm welcome to Stormheim indeed. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably keep this alternating perspective thing going until I have reason to change it. I like them both, and seeing as they both go on very different paths, I want to give a good picture of what happens. 
> 
> Hopefully I can come up with something decent.
> 
> The next chapter might take me a bit to finish, seeing as I actually have to level up a new horde character to the point where I can play through this thing again, but I'll see what I can do. There's always demon hunters, after all...


	3. When the Sky Caught Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you it would take a second to get this done. There was a lot of research to do and even more fact checking. That's the best part of these sorts of stories, after all. The little details that you get correct that make the rest of the tale feel more alive.
> 
> Needless to say, it's quite the chapter.
> 
> Enjoy~

Needless to say, Nathanos was displeased.

All things considered, before they’d been attacked, his evening had been rather uneventful, and might have even been bordering on _ nice. _ Obviously running over strategy with his Queen wasn’t anything particularly special or unusual, but… Well, what it had or hadn't been was unimportant now, the point was, things had been quiet, _ peaceful _. Now they most certainly were not.

Of all the things that could have happened to their fleet, an attack carried out by Genn Greymane and his elite 7th Legion was certainly one of the worst, and Nathanos had been given a lot of time to think of all the ways things could go wrong. The words _ I told her _ kept frequenting his mind as he tried to get a read on where the Alliance ship was heading. _ Of course that dog would take this opportunity, anything to cripple us and the Horde. _

As a volley of cannon fire sent _ The Windrunner _ rocking violently, the Forsaken man steadied himself against the rails before striding down the nearby flight of steps and staring out over the panicking troops. Some of them had a little more forethought than others and were arming up, the less battle inclined crew of the ship were at least trying to get to cover, realizing that as it stood there was very little they could do against the Alliance’s flying warbeast. The rest, however, were being as useless as expected.

This wasn’t a good situation, Nathanos knew that without being told. Gunships were notoriously hard to take down from land, and with Sylvanas’ safety hanging in the balance, he was having trouble seeing a positive outcome. If he hadn’t been a battle hardened ranger and Champion of the Banshee Queen with decades of experience behind him, Nathanos had little doubt that he’d be in much the same state as his forces.

But he knew better, and there was a job to do. After he survived -_ if _he survived- he could calculate the odds that he'd beat, right now he needed to take control.

Raising his voice to carry over the sounds of battle, Nathanos barked, “Get back into formation!” As the Forsaken around him began scrambling to do as he ordered, the Queen's Champion continued, “Paratroopers will be hitting the deck at any moment and with the Dark Lady herself aboard, I expect nothing less than extreme prejudice when dealing with these Alliance maggots.”

If even one hair on her head was harmed, Nathanos thought mutinously, still furious that he’d been deliberately ordered away from his post of protecting Sylvanas, then he would take it out on every man and woman left on this ship. But that was a future him problem; currently, the only thing he needed to worry about was marshalling the rest of their forces.

Eyes lifting to the sky, Nathanos watched as Griffins began taking off from _ The Skyfire, _ filling the already stormy sky with flapping wings and gleaming talons. Seconds later their own Dread-riders took to the air, adding to the chaos above. Gritting his teeth, the Forsaken man signaled their Bat Master and called, “I need to get in the air, now!”

As the Forsaken man leaped into action, Nathanos turned towards the Horde champions that had accompanied them. “Don’t just stand there,” he snapped. “Make yourselves useful! Our ships need to be defended so they can safely make landfall.”

Noting the Bats that were now swooping around the deck, Nathanos pointed to several of the champions and yelled, “On the bats, move!” before picking one of the flying creatures himself and making for it. As it dove down closer to the railing, Nathanos leapt off of the ship, catching the animal's harness and hauling himself atop its back.

Yanking the reigns upward, sending the Bat soaring towards the storm clouds above, Nathanos cast what he told himself would be one final look down at the decks of _ The Windrunner. _ Even from this distance, his eyes quickly honed in on his Queen, who was already watching him. Though he couldn’t make out the red of her eyes, he could feel it burning him, commanding him to do as he’d been bid or suffer the consequences.

At this point, he was beginning to suspect that the reprimanding he would receive would be worth going right back down to the deck and defending Sylvanas personally. That was where he belonged, that was where he always stayed. He didn’t vacate her side in the middle of a battle, the idea was absurd. And this current course of action, however logical it might seem, certainly didn’t feel like the right one.

Instantly, he chastised himself. _ Pathetic, as if how you feel makes an iota of difference. You’re behaving irrationally, like a _ human _ would. _He was above this sort of thing. Sylvanas had issued him orders, and smart or otherwise, he would follow them to the letter.

_ If not for the Forsaken, do it for her. _

Clenching the reigns in his hands, Nathanos made for _ The Eternity _ resolutely, determined to see this succeed, even if he was motivated by purely selfish reasons. Weaving through the canon fire and Griffins that were flying against their own people, Nathanos stared up at _ The Skyfire _ . _ A single gunship, are they insane? _ Unfortunately, without one of their own flying beasts, Sylvanas’ fleet could likely only handle one gunship. 

Speaking of handling… Directing his bat down towards the deck of _ The Eternity, _ Nathanos watched as the crew did desperate battle with the 7th Legion Frost Mages that had teleported aboard. There were several that he could see, but much like rot, these things tended to infest more than just the surface. 

As several of the Horde ‘heroes’ landed on the ship, Nathanos barked out to them, “Griffins incoming! Man those catapults!” Thankfully, they knew how to follow orders. While each of them snapped to a catapult and began firing, the Alliance mages retaliated with bolts of frost to the gears of the Goblin-made artillery. Letting out a growl of frustration, Nathanos pulled back up into the air before drawing his bow. Even from the back of a Bat, the shots were easy ones. 

The first arrow hit a Human woman through the back of the head, skewering her and sending her tumbling into the dark waters below. The second and third shot took down a Dwarf who was attempting to disable Nathanos’ Bat with his icy bolts of magic. Each shot after that blurred in the Ranger’s mind as the familiar tune of arrows singing their release filled his mind.

Finally deeming the ship clean of enough skum for the crew and their help to manage mop-up, Nathanos shouted to the captain, “Get to shore, defend your rear and head for _ The Windrunner!” _

As the Forsaken captain saluted, Nathanos took to the sky once again, expertely dodging the blight being fired against the Griffin. Above him _ The Skyfire _ wheeled around, trying to get a better shot at the Horde ships beneath her. Eyes darting toward _ The Windrunner, _ Nathanos clenched his teeth before wrenching his attention back to his own task. It was pointless to sit around at a distance and watch Sylvanas’ ship. Either he flew back to her now, or he did what he was supposed to do, and in his mind the choice was clear, if difficult.

Diving towards _ The Blightcaller, _ a ship that was supposedly his even though he hardly used it, Nathanos spotted paratroopers landing on its deck and snarled under his breath. _ The bold fools are boarding my ship? _ Clearly Genn Greymane overestimated his forces, that or severely underestimated the Forsaken. 

Signalling to several of the Horde champions still wheeling about, Nathanos called, “To me!” before swooping down to the decks of the ship himself. Leaping off of his Bat, the man began hacking his way through the Alliance troops that had dared to attack his fleet. He almost found a smile coming to his face as he tore through his enemies. There was something undeniably satisfying, after all, about putting a hatchet through a Gnome’s skull. 

Somewhere to his right he heard one of the Alliance paratroopers yell, “Riders, circle back! Turn this ship to splinters!”

Pushing his way to the captain once again, Nathanos cursed at the sight of the woman’s lifeless corpse. _ There isn’t time for this. _ Turning to find the next in charge, the First Mate, he snapped, “You, have you ever sailed this thing?”

“Yes?” the Forsaken asked. 

Resisting the urge to yell that _ this was not the time for uncertainty, _ Nathanos said, “Great, consider this a promotion. Get your ship back in formation!” Without giving the bony Forsaken time to question him, Nathanos hailed his Bat once more before hauling himself back into the saddle and into the air once more.

Watching as most of the fleet’s ships began to follow _ The Eternity _ and _ The Blightcaller _ in putting up a good defence against the Alliance, Nathanos flew over what had become a battlefield, confirming that things were at least attempting to fall into order. It clearly wasn’t enough, several ships were ablaze and several more were caught up in raging battle, but it was a start. Eyes traveling up to _ The Skyfire, _ the Forsaken man clenched his teeth. They needed to bring it down, it was the only way their fleet had a chance.

It was imperative that he take the fight to them. _ But it’d be rude to show up without a gift. _ Lips stretching in a malicious expression, Nathanos made a beeline for their Apothecary ship. After all, if there was one thing an undead Apothecary could do, it was blow things up.

Circling _ The Black Rose, _ Nathanos scowled in disgust at the Worgen swarming the deck, wreaking havoc with the potent chemicals on board and slashing at the Apothecaries with sharpened claws. The only help the Forsaken scientists had received was a single undead warrior who was doing his damndest to keep the attention of the majority of the beasts. It wasn’t working out to the man’s advantage, and even as Nathanos watched half-a-dozen of the dogs piled on top of the Forsaken, finally bringing him down.

_ Weak. _ Landing on the ship himself, Nathanos drew his bow and put several arrows through one of the beasts' skulls, sending the creature tumbling across the deck with a pathetic howl. Distracting another with a second well placed shot, the Champion watched as the Worgen scattered, snarling angrily at him. Noting that the warrior was still alive, Nathanos snapped, “Don’t just sit there, put these beasts down!”

"I was just about to," the hero muttered, still a tad dissoriented. Jumping to his feet a second later, the warrior attacked the Worgen with renewed vigor, giving Nathanos time to take care of business.

Quickly, he snapped at the Black Rose Apothecaries, “I need vials, vials full of the most volatile thing you have.” When none of them moved, Nathanos let out a growl that rivaled the snarling of the beasts on board. “Now!”

As they finally snapped into motion, Nathanos turned back to the fight at hand. The warrior seemed to be handling the Worgen just fine now, slashing at their furred hides without misstep. _Oh, so he is competent. Imagine that._

Unfortunately, the moment of distraction almost cost him dearly. Sensing something beside his head, the Queen's Champion ducked instinctively and was rewarded with the explosive _ boom _ of a gun going off. Turning swiftly, ears ringing from the percussive sound, Nathanos found a tall Worgen woman behind him, her hands clenched around a shotgun that could have taken his head off. 

Letting out a yell of rage at the creature, Nathanos swiftly exchanged his bow for an axe and went in swinging. His movements were quick and his hand was sure as he bore down upon the huntress who had thought herself strong enough to kill him. Though the Worgen was clearly skilled in some measure, she was no match for his superior training and experience. Setting her off balance quickly, Nathanos knocked the gun from her hands and sent her sprawling to the deck of the ship.

“You never should have come here,” Nathanos spat, his eyes blazing.

“The Alliance will prevail,” the female Worgen growled defiantly. Then the light left her eyes as Nathanos buried his hatchet in her chest.

Spitting in disgust, Nathanos turned to find that the Forsaken warrior had managed to take out the other creatures without getting himself killed. Looking back at their fallen foes, Nathanos commented, “Filthy Worgen, a beast in a hat is still a beast.”

“Indeed,” the warrior agreed. “Worse than animals, in my opinion.”

This was a little too much chatter for his tastes. “Did I ask for your opinion?” Nathanos questioned, scowling at the man. The Forsaken's eyes widened, as though taken aback by the response. Nathanos, however, wasn't particularly interested in an answer. Stiding over to one of the apothecaries, he grabbed the satchel of vials that was handed to him. Turning, he tossed the bag in the vague direction of the Forsaken warrior before calling to the stormy skies, “Dread-riders!”

As several uniformed Forsaken swooped down to the ship, Nathanos swiftly ordered, “Grab as many vials as you can carry and form up on me! We are taking down that gunship.”

"And you threw this bag at me because...?” the horde champion ventured.

“Because ufortunately, you’re with me,” Nathanos grunted, before whistling for his Bat. Climbing on its back once more, he waited impatiently for the warrior to grab on as well before taking to the skies, his eyes fixed on _ The Skyfire. _

Decidedly, he didn’t look towards _ The Windrunner. _

_ She is capable, and I have my orders. _

From behind him, the undead, whose was becoming more irritating by the moment, said, “I’m Antreas, by the way.”

This, of all things, managed to snap Nathanos out of his brooding thoughts. Mostly because he was now too busy being annoyed to be much else. “Do I look like I care?” he questioned. “You might call yourself a hero, but until such time as you have finished the task you were given, you serve the will the Banshee Queen, nothing more.”

Satisfied that he’d put the warrior in his place, Nathanos glanced to the satchel the man held and decided now was as good a time as any to brief him on what the plan was. “The mixture in those vials is extremely volatile. Once you pop the cork there’s no containing it.”

“And I'm doing what with them, exactly?” the undead questioned.

“Preferably not dropping them,” Nathanos muttered, his brows furrowing as he circled _ The Skyfire, _ looking for the best way in. “I intend to send this ship to her death, along with the vermin she contains. A few of those vials placed in the right locations and she’ll be tearing herself apart from the inside.”

Spotting an easy way in for the warrior, Nathanos swooped down and waited for the other to dismount. “You're just leaving?” the warrior called up to him, his words almost lost to the sounds of canons around them.

“I have other matters to attend to,” Nathanos said, the words tugging at the corners of his mouth. “There’s someone here I want to kill personally…” With that, Nathanos yanked on the reigns of his Bat, sending the creature soaring upwards toward the top deck of _ The Skyfire. _

Other Bat-riders circled with him, clearly waiting for his signal. As the Ranger’s well trained eyes landed upon the hated visage of Genn Greymane himself, Nathanos was only too happy to yell, “Slay them all, for the Dark Lady!”

Instantly the Dread-riders flew in, leaping off their mounts so they could begin to hack and slash at the Alliance soldiers aboard the ship. Hardly waiting for his Bat to get closer, Nathanos launched himself at the deck before drawing his bow and stalking with predatory intent toward Greymane.

“How good of you to grace us all with your presence, Greymane,” Nathanos called, his eyes alight with bloody fire.

Turning to face him, the old Worgen growled back, “Is that decay and maggots in the air? I should have recognized your scent sooner, Blightcaller.”

Greymane’s eyes were feral, Nathanos noticed as he stared up at the former human. There was a rage in them that matched his own. That and the flames of hatred that were entirely mutual. Stretching his lips into a sneer, the Forsaken man pulled an arrow from his quiver, his eyes never leaving Greymane. “I wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome when we showed up, I hope you didn’t spend too much time planning it.”

“Quite the contrary,” Genn responded, slowly descending the steps that would bring him before Nathanos. “It was a spur of the moment thing.”

_ We were unlucky, _ Nathanos realized, the thought somehow fueling the smoldering anger within him. _ There was no ambush, it was never a trap, we just happened to get unlucky. _ Throwing back his shoulders, the Ranger taunted, “You know, my Queen has always wanted your head hanging in Undercity.”

Letting out a growl, Greymane mocked, “What, can you not kill me of your own volition? Pathetic.” Though he was still in his human form, Nathanos could see the filthy beast right under the surface, straining to get out. “A pity that someone such as you can no longer think for himself. Now you’re nothing but a slave to your master.”

“At least my leader still lives, mongrel,” Nathanos spat. “Perhaps next time, you should protect your King.”

And with those words, Greymane snapped. Letting out an almighty roar, one that clearly displayed the Worgen within, the man drew his sword and charged at Nathanos. The Forsaken only had to time to get off a single shot before Greymane was upon him. Disregarding his bow, Nathanos drew his hatchets with a terrible grimace and dove head-first into the fight.

Of all the people who Nathanos had gone toe to toe with, Genn Greymane was one of the strongest. Every slash of his axe was met with an equally swift counter and at every turn he found that flashing sword moving in, striking whenever he left himself open. It was a dance as much as it was a fight, both of them ducking and weaving between other combatants as the Alliance and Horde did battle around them. Though Nathanos was by no means lacking in skill, his opponent was equal in might and never seemed to tire despite his age. Somehow, this only frustrated him further. _ The mongrel is holding back, I want to see him fight! _

“Monsters!” Greymane hollered in rage, lashing out with his blade and almost catching Nathanos’ face. “You have no place in this world!” 

Countering the strike with an axe, Nathanos let out a loud, hollow laugh that seemed to echo around the mountains that surrounded them. “You call us monsters?” Lunging forward, Nathanos caught Greymane’s side with the blunt end of his hatchet. “How rich,” he spat with contempt as the former King of Gilneas stumbled backwards.

“At least my people are still alive!” the Worgen roared, throwing himself against Nathanos with renewed vigor. Momentarily stunned by the vicious attack, Nathanos stumbled and narrowly avoided getting his arm cleaved off. The result was merely a gash in his flesh that pulsed with dark, sludge-like ichor that stained his tunic.

“Alive? Don’t make me laugh, _ beast. _ Your people died the moment you became these mongrels!” With Eyes full of a wild drive, the Forsaken man pushed harder, determined to best this old foe, and without missing a beat, Greymane matched his tenacity with force of his own. Gritting his teeth as the battle raged on, Nathanos shouted, “Stop holding back old man, show us the real you!”

Hunching over, Genn let loose a snarl that transformed into an animalistic howl as it left his lips. “RRrrrrrrgh ENOUGH!” Morphing into the beast that Nathanos knew he man truly was, the Worgen stood straight and bayed at the sky before pouncing upon his Forsaken enemy.

Feeling his own blood boiling under his skin, Nathanos gave a vicious grin. “Ah, there you are!” Blocking the beast’s initial strike, Nathanos tossed Greymane to the side with his axes before pushing his momentary advantage. It didn’t last long however and soon they were matched once more, locked in desperate combat, forever searching for a moment of weakness to exploit.

But the Forsaken had an ace up his sleeve. As he was driven back to the great wheel of _ The Skyfire, _ there was a horrendous crash as something beneath them ruptured and exploded. Blow the deck, Nathanos could feel the explosive chemicals he’d ordered to be set begin to go off, all firing in quick succession. Eyes widening, Greymane barked in a rasped and gravelly tone, “What have you done?”

A terrible, cruel smile stretched across Nathanos’ face as he struck out with his hatchet. As the blade cut across the Worgen’s chest, sending him reeling back, the Queen’s Champion answered, “Simple, I have beaten you.”

As the deck beneath them began to buckle and the ship lurched drastically to one side, Greymane coughed and unexpectedly grinned, bearing every single one of his horrid, sharp teeth. “You fool, it’s already too late.”

“What?” Nathanos couldn’t help but demand.

Greymane let out a terrible laugh that chilled Nathanos’ frozen, Forsaken soul. “Your precious Queen’s ship has already been destroyed. You have achieved nothing!”

As the words slammed into the Forsaken champion, he let out a yell of pure, unadulterated fury and launched himself across the tilting deck at Greymane. While the ship burst into green, wildfire around them, Nathanos managed to deliver one last blow to the Worgen before he was thrown backwards by an explosion under his feet. Flying through the air, the broken hull of _ The Skyfire _ falling with him, Nathanos didn’t even bother fighting it, he simply let the storm and sky take him as he plummeted down towards the unforgiving waters below.

Dimly, he was aware of the pain that blossomed through his whole body as he hit the water. The next moment he was sinking beneath the waves, swallowed up by their choppy tides. Around him flaming debris and dead figures crashed into the sea, but it didn’t register.

Nothing registered anymore, nothing but the cold, unforgiving dread that engulfed Nathanos’ heart.

Then his grip on reality loosened and all around him faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the next chapter shall be Nathanos as well. I couldn't quite fit it all into this one and I want to give my boy a little more time. Don't worry, we'll get to Sylvanas soon, I just need to make sure I've got all my facts straight first.
> 
> Until next time~ tata!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna try real hard to keep this story to less than ten chapters, but knowing me it'll end up being a monster that no one reads.
> 
> Ah, the joys of tiny fandoms.


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